


Higher Love

by meowgatron



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Megatron, Crying, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, barfights, but in like a sappy way, by that i mean he travels halfway across the galaxy searching for megatron, oh boy, optimus is a bit of a worrywart, that quickly become outside-fights, the inherent homo-eroticism of being enemies for like a million years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25850269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowgatron/pseuds/meowgatron
Summary: Optimus Prime is alone.
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Comments: 12
Kudos: 168





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [Higher Love中文版](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28002201) by [Bluelynx233](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluelynx233/pseuds/Bluelynx233)



Optimus Prime is alone.

He has been, for orns upon orns, long enough for him to stop really keeping track of his own forced exile. He's been living like some kind of giant primary-colored ghost, bouncing between backwater planets in his rinky little ship. 

He supposes he should feel happy. Triumphant. The war as he knew it is over, has been for ages. After Megatron's strange disappearance, the Decepticon army had fallen to the winds, its forces spreading thin across Earth. Starscream wasn't exactly a popular leader in Megatron's stead, try as he might, and Soundwave seemed to be trying to pick up the pieces after both of them. As far as Optimus knew, he hadn't had much success, although it had been a while since Jazz had updated him. An uneasy peace was slowly being forged between the Autobots and the Decepticon stragglers.

Even that small victory seems to ring hollow to Optimus, and he hates himself for it. After all, this is what he, and the Autobots as a whole, were after. Till all are one, and all that. Still. It all feels so bittersweet, and Optimus really doesn't want to linger on why that is. 

Megatron.

Or, the lack thereof.

Even considering the countless cycles spent fighting nail and tooth to protect the organic life of earth, all the pain they dished out to one another, all in the name of their ideals, Optimus Prime finds that his biggest gripe with Megatron is that he wasn't here to share the peace with him. That's what he's doing here, lightyears away from his troops in a dingy, seedy bar on some no-name pit stop planet, nursing some of the worst high grade he's ever had the pleasure of choking down his intake. Hoping, beyond hope, that he'll find Megatron out here among the stars.

And- what? Restore the Decepticons to their former glory? Have one last battle? Hold him to his chestplates like a lover, plead with him to stay so that-

Optimus sighs very deeply, watching his glass of high grade shimmer in the dim light. It seemed all it took to get him to reach- well, maybe not rock bottom, but damn near close was his arch enemy dying.

Or...No, he wasn't dead, but he was very much missing, and warlords didn't tend to get up and walk away. Optimus had given up trying to squash down that stubborn bit of hope he held onto, that Megatron was still out there. Optimus Prime, ever the...optimist. He had taken it upon himself to find him, after all, and he did not plan on returning to Earth empty-handed.

Stupid, stupid Megatron. Optimus had been halfway across the galaxy looking for him, and he hadn't even had the decency to leave any clues behind. Optimus had stopped at so many inhabited planets, asking after a certain disagreeable Cybertronian.

'Has anyone tried to conquer your planet lately? Hello, have you seen a mech, about 35 feet tall, glaring optics, snarling grin, killer left hook that always knocks you on your- No? Thanks, anyway.'

Megatron can't be dead. Optimus is sure that he would...Know, somehow. Although Optimus is making it a point to avoid thinking to much about what their rivalry meant to him, he can't deny that he knows Megatron well, possibly better than anyone. He would've made a scene, would've left his mark behind. Megatron was not easy to forget. Maybe that's why Optimus' spark feels so frustratingly empty at the prospect that his search could be in vain.

Optimus could make excuses all day, could lie that he wanted to find Megatron for the sake of his scattered troops, but the truth was that he was looking for Megatron for his own sake. Megatron was gone, and Optimus' will to fight, to survive, had gone with him. The only thing that seemed to keep him going was looking for the fragger. 

In truth, he's a horrible leader, a selfish, selfish mech. Optimus' treacherous processor swirls, bubbles with dark thoughts, and he knocks back his stinking high grade in an attempt to quell it. What kind of Prime lets something as trivial as his attachment to another mech- the enemy commander no less- compromise his leadership of his own troops? Sure, Jazz seemed to be doing well leading in his absence, but Optimus' own thoughts weigh heavily on him in this dingy, dark, little booth, where he is suddenly very aware of how alone he really is.

Optimus shutters his optics, dropping his helm into his palm. Things would be so much easier if it had been literally any other mech. Optimus wishes he could've been any other mech, actually, not this Prime so hell bent on searching for Megatron like a lovesick turbohound. The thought is nearly comical. Optimus surrenders himself as the high grade dulls his swirling processor, and his self loathing dulls into something like simple frustration.

Dumb, stupid, Megatron, with his strength, his pride, always so sure of himself. What Optimus would give for a taste of that immovable self-confidence. Optimus drains the rest of his energon, wincing at the taste as the dregs slither down his intake.

Optimus stares a hole into the scarred metal table he's leaning into, trying to get up the motivation to start the trek back to his ship. He needs recharge, if his foggy, aching, processor is any indication. He'll feel better in his berth, he reasons with himself, where at least he can close his tired optics.

Optimus' finals twitch as the swinging door of the bar is pushed open roughly, the first new customer since himself, Optimus notes absently. He doesn't look up when he hears heavy metal steps drag across the floor to the bar, only snapping his battle mask up to cover himself. Usually when Optimus made eye contact with someone who sounded that imposing, they would come looking for a fight.

The mech, he's certain its a Cybertronian when he hears them grumble an order for energon, seems to sound familiar, and Optimus' foggy processor struggles to make the connection. Where has he heard that voice? Slightly hoarse, perpetually angry, somewhat petulant-

"Megatron?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Space bridge accident," Megatron, very alive, and looking very much worse for wear, glares at Optimus from the seat opposite him "No, not an accident. more likely it was sabotage. I was going to check in on commander Shockwave when-" he sighs heavily. "Well, something exploded, and I was flung across this pit-forsaken universe. I've been...Trying to find that miserable little organic planet again so I can find out just who did this to me."

"So you got lost?," Optimus jabs, delighting in the flash of irritation it earns him.

"That’s one way to put it," Megatron grits, "But that doesn’t explain why you’re out here on this miserable rock."

That’s the only way to put it, Optimus thinks drily, staring at Megatron for a long moment. He's right here, in the metal, although he looks a little gaunt. Optimus wonders briefly when the last time he refueled was. Still, he holds himself high, ever the proud Decepticon leader. Optimus wants to reach out, brush one of Megatron's new scrapes, but he knows that it would be a great way to lose a perfectly good servo in record time.

Optimus is lost studying a new scar just under Megatron's optic when the mech snaps his digits rudely at him, loud and sharp.

"Hello, Prime, I've just offered you my explanation. I'm expecting one in kind. Don't short out on me just yet."

Optimus glares as best as he can while desperately trying to come up with a reason that doesn't sound paper-thin or just plain embarrassing. His processor comes up blank.

"I- uh," Optimus states smartly, "You went missing."

Megatron raises an optic ridge, looking at least somewhat intrigued. Optimus' voice sounds weak, even to his own audios, and he resents the warble that threatens to slip into his voice.

"I came looking for you,” Optimus trails off, thinking very carefully. He knows, deep in his spark, what he wants to- needs to say, but the words just won’t come.

"I missed you," He says simply.

"Enough," Megatron sputters, clearing static from his vocalizer in a sharp burst. "Enough!"

In a second, the longest second of Optimus Prime's life, Megatron's expression goes from confusion to disbelief to something else entirely before settling on an expression the Prime was familiar with: anger. It would be comical, really, if they had been in any other situation. 

"You-You’re glitched," Megatron hisses, "You're crazier than even I thought you were, Prime! To think that I'd ever believe you- you'd ever-!"

"Do you take me for a liar, Megatron?"

Optimus meets Megatron's optics with a miserable glance, causing the other mech to angrily puff up. Tension crackles, as Megatron's EM field lashes furiously out at Optimus'.

Then, Megatron sets his jaw, and responds the best way he seems to knows how- by throwing the table of their booth across the bar and scrabbling for Optimus' throat.

Optimus has a split second to react, rolling out of his booth, his battle computer barely registering what he's going to do before he tackles Megatron down to the floor. They tumble, the bar's few other patrons are shouting and trying desperately to avoid the flurry of fists the two of them have become. One wouldn't be considered a genius to realize that two Cybertronians fighting isn’t exactly a subtle affair.

The bartender, a strange green organic, shrieks at them- a universal phrase that likely means 'get the hell out of my bar'. Actually, Optimus is keen to do just that, and he grips Megatron's pauldrons as he slings him through the swinging doors and into the cool night air. Megatron lands, tumbling before shooting to his pedes and launching himself, snarling, at Optimus.

The Prime is ready for him this time, catching a punch before it can glance off his helm. His frame, his very spark sings at the familiarity, the proximity of his old enemy as they trade blows, aiming for well-known weak spots on the other's frame. Optimus manages to throw Megatron down again, feeling nearly guilty as he watches him struggle momentarily to regain his footing.

"Megatron-," Optimus starts, but Megatron is already back up, landing a clumsy, but heavy, punch square on Optimus' battlemask. He sweeps Optimus easily, sending the Autobot leader down with a painful sounding clunk. Megatron straddles Optimus, then, planting himself firmly on Optimus' hips and pinning him to the dirt. Before Optimus can plant his pedes and flip them, Megatron shoves his fusion canon into Optimus' face. It whirs to life with an electric whine, and Optimus goes rigid underneath him.

"Tell me," Megatron pants furiously, "Tell me why you're really out here, away from your precious Earth, so far from your Autobots. Tell me you've been looking for me so you can kill me- or- or something!"

Optimus stares at Megatron helplessly over the barrel of his canon.

"I can't," Optimus whispers, voice thin.

Megatron grimaces down at him. That's not the answer he's looking for, but it's the only one Optimus has. When the Decepticon speaks again, he nearly sounds...Tired.

"I don't have time for your games, Prime. I want the truth."

"What more can I say, Megatron? Do you really think I was lying, back at the bar?" Optimus' vocalizer crackles, frustration causing his optics to prickle uncomfortably. "I missed you! I left to find you because I needed you…I need you. You’re right. I’m glitched, because I realized, as soon as I saw you in that bar-" Optimus lays his head back, watching the stars twinkle in an unfamiliar sky. "Despite everything, I realized I…love you. I think I always have."

Optimus exvents, letting the weight of that confession fall off his shoulders. At least when Megatron shoots his helm off, he'll be sent to Vector Sigma with one less regret. His optics shutter, and Optimus awaits oblivion.

Of course, death doesn’t come, as if Optimus Prime had ever been so lucky. Megatron just answers his sigh in kind and rolls off him, dragging himself up to his pedes. When Megatron's weight leaves him, Optimus cracks open an optic to stare up at the warlord, who has one black servo out to help him up.

A peace offering.

"My ship was destroyed entering the atmosphere of this miserable rock. I'm going to have to hitch a ride, Prime."

Optimus takes the offered servo, silently rising to Megatron's level. The mech's faceplates are set in an unreadable expression, his optics shining a dull ruby. There's that scar again. The weld pulls slightly as Megatron blinks at Optimus, who aches to brush his fingers along the old wound.

They stand there for a moment, staring at one another like that, servos clasped. Something fragile and strange settles between them, and they part. Optimus leads Megatron back to his little spacecraft, parked far enough out of town to hopefully dissuade scavengers from poking around. Not that the ship was worth much, even for scrap parts, really.

Optimus keys in the code for the main hatch, processor swirling with what to do, what to say, how can he possibly take this back. At least Megatron trying to kill him was something familiar. As it stands, the flight home would likely be an awkward one. Optimus doubts Megatron would want much to do with him after that little confession.

The metal slab of a hatch shudders open, and Optimus exvents, turning to face Megatron.

"Megatron, I'm sorry-hhf!" Optimus is shoved in the doors, knocked off-balance and manhandled against the nearest offwhite wall.

"You fragger! Take that stupid battlemask down, now!"

Optimus makes a dignified noise, by his own account, letting the thing transform out of the way so Megatron can mash their lips together. It's messy, their helms bash, their noses knock together like a couple of fumbling newsparks, but something warm bubbles in Optimus' spark, and he’s laughing loud and clear, breathless when he breaks from the kiss. Megatron sags into Optimus, wrapping his arms tightly around his brightly colored frame, shuddering with barely controlled mirth of his own. Whatever this is...It's new. And yet, it's been there, simmering in both their sparks for…how long?

"You could've asked nicely," Optimus chuckles, that thing bubbling over into more laughter, "I almost thought we had a truce going." 

Megatron smirks wordlessly up from Optimus' shoulder, and Optimus has half a mind to kiss that annoying expression right off his faceplates. Instead, Optimus jabs him in the side, feeling playfully vindictive.

"Dirty Autobot." Megatron pokes back, catching a sensitive gap in Optimus' armor and twisting, making him yelp. If they start fighting again, Optimus isn't sure his ship would survive. Thinking quickly, he grabs Megatron's wrists to try and spare himself from more merciless prodding. 

Megatron struggles against him, jostling the both of them against the wall. "Really, Prime? so soon after your little love confession, and now you're trying to seduce me?"

"My little-! I'm not trying anything, you dirty-" 

Well, so what if Optimus' thigh had ended up firmly pressed against Megatron's pelvic span? Really, Megatron's the one grinding down against him, so he's the only one trying to- 

Optimus throws Megatron's hands down, as if the metal had suddenly burned him.

"I'm not fragging you."

Optimus is suddenly very aware of every point of contact he’s sharing with Megatron, where their frames fit together like they were forged that way. Optimus tries not to shake as Megatron's newly freed servos slide up his back. Despite his protests, Optimus isn't doing a great job of shying away.

"Well what else are we supposed to do on our way back to Earth?" 

"We haven’t even taken off yet," Optimus swallows thickly, "And...besides...weren’t you just trying to offline me earlier?"

"Aren't we always doing that?" Megatron shifts against him, lighting a trail of sensation down his chassis. Megatron's frame is so warm, and Optimus hasn't been properly touched in so long...even before his self-imposed exile. Regaining a modicum of self control, Optimus musters a noncommittal grunt, giving Megatron a light shove.

"You...know what I mean."

"Yes. I do."

Megatron half-lids his optics, rubbing small, tight, circles into a dent on Optimus' chassis. He hadn't noticed just how sore he'd gotten from their scuffle, and Megatron's touch is practically a shock to his system. Faintly, Optimus realizes it's probably the closest Megatron's ever come to apologizing. Optimus groans quietly, resisting the urge to arch into the gentle touch.

He must be dreaming. Optimus is going to wake up cold on his berth, just like he has countless nights before, alone on his ship, and Megatron will still be gone. This can't be real, because Optimus could never have this, this gentle treatment, certainly not from Megatron.

Before Optimus can sink farther into his own despair, Megatron presses his face deep into Optimus' neck cables, breathing deeply into him.

"Stop...Thinking so hard. You're going to blow a fuse. Please. Just touch me." Megatron's vocalizer crackles. "I'm tired, Optimus."  
Megatron drags his burning panel over Optimus' thigh to emphasize his point, and the effort Optimus exterts to keep his own panels from snapping open is starting to put a strain on his circuits. 

"I was alone, and just when I'd given up on ever seeing you, or anyone, ever again, you show up and say you...you love me, in that sentimental way that only you can manage, with your sentimental bleeding spark."

Megatron's lip plates brush against sensitive neck cabling, sending a light charge down Optimus' back struts, "And now, you're either going to frag me until I forget how long I’ve been waiting, or you can shove me off your dinky little ship, and I'll walk back to Earth."

Optimus swallows dryly past the sudden lump in his throat.

"Uh- Berthroom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the sweet comments you guys've left...;_; it really means a lot to hear ppl are enjoying this LOL...trust me, i've read every one of them <333333
> 
> expect the last chapter tomorrow ;^0


	3. Chapter 3

Optimus grabs Megatron's wrist again, pulling him out of the cockpit, down a short hallway, inadvertently giving Megatron a tour of the place- maybe it really is a dinky little ship.  
They reach the berthroom and tumble onto the berth, Megatron dragging Optimus down with him. Optimus barely manages to hold himself over Megatron, locking his elbow joints in place so he doesn't end up smacking his helm against Megatron's chassis. Megatron stares at him, crimson optics burning with a challenging sort of arousal, daring him to make the next move. Slag him. Optimus leans in, recapturing Megatron's lips, setting a slow pace as he very determinedly maps the inside of Megatron’s intake with his tongue.

Megatron is still here, still alive, running his servos down Optimus' back, cradling his helm, and oh, the wave of relief that sinks into Optimus is enough to make him choke on their kiss.

"Megatron," Optimus sighs, breaking the kiss so he can vent properly. The prickling is back in his optics again, and he cant stop the tears of coolant that start to roll down his faceplates. "I'm so glad you're here." He thunks their forehelms together, kissing the bridge of Megatron's nose.

"Oh you- You’re disgusting," Megatron croaks, holding Optimus' cheeks. "Quit crying, you lug of scrap metal." This close, Optimus can't miss the way Megatron's chin almost seems to tremble.

"I know," Optimus' spark trembles, and he manages a breathless laugh. "Megatron, I-"

"Have you always talked this much, Prime? Why don’t you find something better to do?"

For all his bravado, the smile Megatron shoots Optimus looks a little too heartfelt, his thumbs so gentle as they brush away the twin streaks of coolant from his faceplates. Optimus doesn’t press it. He just nuzzles into Megatron's servos, kissing at one of his palms.

"I can think of something," Optimus sniffles briefly before making himself useful, his own servo lowering to Megatron's paneling. He kisses Megatron's neck cables wetly, sucking and nibbling wherever he can reach. Megatron groans lowly, bucking up when Optimus' digits brush his pelvic span, his valve panel opening nearly as soon as Optimus makes contact.

"That was quick," Optimus whistles, sparing a glance up at Megatron as he parts the soft lips of his valve.

"Shut up," Megatron groans from behind a servo, "'Been a while." He bucks, trying to grind his array into Optimus' palm. Optimus indulges him, rubbing the flat of his palm into Megatron's gently pulsing anterior node. Megatron curses, clenching his servos hard on Optimus' shoulders. 

"More," he sighs, venting humidly near Optimus' audios. Optimus nods, committing the sounds escaping the other mech to his memory banks as he sinks a finger into his valve, curling the digit against soaked, welcoming calipers. Then another when Megatron rolls his hips down, using Optimus' servo for all he can. Charge crackles between Optimus' digits, sending an electric jolt into his joints. Wet, rhythmic sounds fill the space between the warlords moans, making Optimus' audios burn.

"I meant your spike, Prime. Haven't you made me wait long enough?" Megatron growls, his valve calipers clamping greedily down on Optimus' digits. "If this is some new type of Autobot torture, it's working beautifully."

"It's foreplay, Megatron."

Optimus suppresses a twinge of irritation at the unimpressed glance Megatron offers. Of course, no other mech could give him a helmache while he's this revved up. 

Optimus releases his spike with a sigh, like he hasn't been dreaming of this for orns, like the idea of having Megatron beneath him hasn't fueled countless nights of guilty self-service.  
Megatron, to his credit, manages to stay still long enough for Optimus to nudge his spike inside the tight heat of his valve. Charge flows freely, rocketing up Optimus' trembling frame as he hilts himself, closing the circuit between them. 

Time seems to slow as they lay there, vents cycling searing air between their burning frames, until Optimus moves, pulling out nearly entirely before sinking back in, setting a pace that has Megatron clinging to Optimus' shoulders with pressure enough to dent armor. 

Optimus slips a servo between them, dipping his fingers gently into a sensitive seam where Megatron's chassis meets his midsection. It's a place he knows to slam his knuckles into during a brawl, but now Megatron whines with the sensation, bucking up into Optimus' touch. Next time, and, isn't that a thought, Optimus wants to use his knowledge of Megatron's frame to his full advantage, wants to see Megatron come undone around him. Optimus' spark does that funny flip again as Megatron knocks their helms together in a messy kiss, reaching up to tweak at Optimus' finials in retaliation. 

"Come now, Prime, you're treating me like delicate circuitry. I know you can do better than this," Megatron pants, hot and heavy next to Optimus' audio. They’re both close, Optimus knows it, but he rises to the obvious bait anyway, stilling himself enough to get a hold on Megatron's thighs.

"Why would I need to extend the effort when you're clearly getting off on taunting me, Megatron," Optimus grumbles playfully, hiking Megatron's legs up on his hips so he can grind in deeper, much to the other mech's pleasure as he arches under him, struggling to meet his thrusts with his own hips.

Megatron throws his head back in a breathless cackle, and Optimus joins him, frame shuddering with suppressed laughter of his own. The teasing, that's familiar, and Optimus cant help but revel in it. For a blessed few moments, nothing exists outside of Megatron, his hoarse commands, the heat of his frame.

"Close," Megatron hisses, burying his face under Optimus' jaw. "Come on, come on," he pants, drawing a gasp from Optimus as he sinks his dentae into sensitive neck cables. the hurt, the throbbing pain, is familiar, too. Megatron's words garble when Optimus jolts, apparently thrusting into a particularly good spot.

Their frames are so close, Megatron’s legs are clamped so tightly around Optimus' hips, all they can really do is grind. Then, Megatron goes rigid beneath him, valve clamping around Optimus' spike and he couldn't stop his overload if he even wanted to, optics flaring as he rides out the last jolts from his charge in a few desperate thrusts.

Optimus shudders above Megatron as the charge works out of his systems, valiantly managing the will to slip his spike from his slick valve. He makes to roll out of berth, to grab something to clean the both of them up, but Megatron grumbles something unintelligible, pulling Optimus back down to his chassis with a petulant huff.

The mighty lord Megatron is a cuddler. Optimus could've laughed, if his processor wasn’t still desperately trying to catch up with the rest of him.

The berth isn't made for two mechs, especially two of their size, but with some careful maneuvering, neither of them are in danger of falling off, at least. They lay there for a silent moment, Optimus nearly falling into recharge when an arm tentatively slides around his middle, startling him awake. 

It's a little silly, considering the position they were just in, but when Megatron presses his face against the back of his helm, Optimus nearly shudders. His fingers brush Optimus' abdomen lightly, tracing the natural seams of his armor as their em fields settle comfortably together, relaxed in a way that Optimus hasn't felt much of in a good while. Peace settles between the two mechs like a heavy blanket.

"I meant what I said earlier. I really had...given up for a while there," Megatron mumbles, vocalizer tight, "The thought of seeing you again...bashing in your faceplates, that's what kept me going."

A beat of silence. 

"I thought about fragging you, as well."

"Lucky you. You got both." Optimus snorts tiredly, covering Megatron's restless hand with his own. Optimus can feel Megatron's silent laughter at that, his chassis rumbling against Optimus' back as his internals give a contented purr. Optimus' spark gives a lazy flop, feeling heavy and warm in his chamber...If he focuses, he can almost imagine Megatron's own spark pulsing back at him, under that thick breastplate of his.

There's a lot to talk about. Even more to think about, now.

Next vorn, when they both wake from recharge, they’ll have to make their way back to earth. There’s going to be a lot of explaining to do. No doubt Jazz deserves an apology, at the very least. Optimus isn't sure how long this can last...He can only hope that Megatron will stay by his side, and even if he does...Well, Primus only knows what the future holds for them both, not to mention the rest of their forces.

All of this, it's still so much, too much, it's the start of something, and Optimus can't possibly name what it is.

That last thought is too overwhelming for his poor strained processor, and Optimus screws his optics shut with a heavy vent. Megatron tightens his grip on him in response, fitting their frames tightly together.

"Your processor's smoking, Prime. the smell's keeping me awake," Megatron chides, voice too tired to hold any venom.

And then, more firmly: "Relax."

Oh, right. With a quiet murmur, Optimus unlocks his spinal strut, melding back into the other mech. Optimus shutters his optics, soundly deciding to shove the responsibility of thought onto tomorrow's Optimus. Tonight's Optimus, at least, is not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed...comments and kudos appreciated ;^0 
> 
> i wanna write more in this universe..... ;_; i have a few ideas, but its just a matter of writing them down!

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy...my first multi chapter fic........so named after the song i had on repeat writing this lol  
> mad props to rae for helping me beta this fic and listening to me prattle on about it for ages. love ya bug! *smooch*
> 
> come talk 2 me on tumblr @dorkicon


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